Spirit Walker
by CraftingP0tter
Summary: Harry hasn't been seen in years following the collapse of Voldemort. The mysterious deaths of hundreds of wizards and witches leads him back to Britain, determined to take down the "Spirit Walker" that is said to steal the souls of the living. Will old feelings rekindle along the way? Eventual H/Hr.
1. Destiny Brings Us Together

**Spirit Walker**

Chapter 1 - _Destiny Brings Us Together Once Again_

_October 16, 2010 - Diagon Alley - Anonymous_

Freezing raindrops splashed against the wooden barrels outside of a dimly-lit bookstore in Diagon Alley. The lantern hanging above the door swayed in the biting breeze, flickering before extinguishing in a hiss of agony. A man, frail and ageing, stared out into the empty cobblestone street.

"Rather empty even with the awful weather," the man muttered, peering across the way at an empty hot beverage shop. He turned to grab his umbrella, fumbling with his cane before opening the door and stepping outside. The crisp air stung his lips and cheeks, a breath of steam emitting from his mouth as he began walking.

"Mr. Roberts, how good to see you!" A woman had opened the shop door across the street, an umbrella in hand as well.

"Ah, Ms. Falmar, it's always a pleasure! Not the most pleasant day for walks, is it not?" She shook her head, smiling and making her way over.

"It's unusual for the alley to be this empty, don't you agree? I haven't a single customer in hours!"

"I could say the same. Rather peculiar," Mr. Roberts replied, his wooden cane creating ripples in the glistening puddles below. They walked in silence, only pausing to comment on the brand new flower shop opening a block down. Droplets latched onto a dazzling teal petal, holding on for dear life as it slowly slid down the green stem.

"My, Mr. Roberts, it seems as if this flower has seen much better days," Ms. Falmar exclaimed, studying what seemed to be a dried tulip.

"It certainly has. A shame the shopkeeper would keep such a pitiful display in front of his store for the world to see." They continued walking, the wind picking up in a ferocious gust. Turning the corner, Ms. Falmar let out a blood-curdling scream.

A cloaked figure stood in the middle of the road, a black wolf by its side. Mr. Roberts shuddered as the creature's eyes bored into his, as if knowing all along they'd turn the corner. On the cobblestone laid hundreds of what appeared to be dried bodies, their skin cracked and faces shrunken as if wrung like a sponge and left to bake in the scorching sun. A putrid smell emitted from the display.

"Ah, more volunteers! I wasn't expecting so many!" The cloaked figure spun around, his face hidden by an oversized, drooping hood. A death eater.

"I'm calling the ministry!" Mr. Roberts yelled in the pouring rain, the wind howling as if to deafen anyone who would come to their aid. The cloaked figure began to chuckle, strolling over to the two with his wolf in tow.

"Now, let's not be so rash! The fun has just begun!" The figure raised his hand, a glowing teal ball of sparkling matter appearing on his fingertips. With a quick mutter, Mr. Roberts watched in horror as his walking companion's eyes bugged out of her face- her skin sinking slowly before collapsing to the ground in a heap of dried skin and bone.

"You see? Quite fascinating isn't it. A form of magic older than your grandparents, rediscovered at last." The cloaked figure approached Mr. Roberts, stripping back his hood to reveal his sunken, pale face. A manic smile played on his lips, a dangerous sparkle flashing in his red eyes.

With a flick of his wrist, Mr. Roberts felt his mind being torn from his head. He felt himself leaving his physical manifestation in a frenzy of pain.

He could only see darkness.

_October 17, 2010 - Diagon Alley - Hermione_

Hermione wasn't having the best day. She'd managed to miss her boss's summons three times due to careless snoozing, spill half her instant coffee onto her new blouse, and stumble into Draco Malfoy on her way to the crime scene.

"Lovely seeing the mudblood out and about," Draco sneered from a cafe table, a pale toddler sitting on his lap while playing with what appeared to be a small bowl of ice cream.

"Draco, I see you haven't changed." His eyes raked across her body before smirking.

"Well, someone definitely has changed in the right areas." Hermione glared daggers at the Slytherin graduate before walking off, fuming. The nerve of that boy. In front of his own child. Who would even be desperate enough to shag him to have that poor thing pop out?

"Ah Ms. Granger! I see you've finally arrived." A burly man in a burgundy coat with black slacks and a tie waved her down, an amused expression on his face. Hermione flushed slightly and made her way over quickly.

"I'm incredibly sorry Mr. Finnick! I overslept and didn't get your calls. It won't ever happen again!" He smiled lightly, although a troubled look spread across his face.

"Ms. Granger, your punctual record indicates this a mere outlier. Relax. As for the investigation, we have quite the case on our hands." He spread his hands, gesturing towards a cobble road filled with bodies. Hermione gasped.

Hermione had become an auror after completing her final years at Hogwarts, much to the surprise of her parents and friends. Something had drawn her to pursue the dangerous job. Was it the excitement? The aspect of not knowing what would be thrown her way? A longing to fill the shoes of a certain someone?

Ron had been quite supportive of her decision, deciding to stick with his brothers in managing the joke shop in the alley. They'd remained quite close, attending their usual Friday dinners and talking whenever they had the chance. Truth be told, the relationship they believed would almost certainly blossom as the years passed seemed to become a distant memory as they settled for being friends. It was mutual. On good terms.

In her years of fighting wizarding crime, Hermione had never seen a display like she did now. Corpses lie strewn, their bodies mangled and withered as if death had touched their very souls. Some faces held expressions of pain, their mouths open in surprise and horror. There had to be at least a hundred on the street in front of her, bags of goods dropped at their feets. A man carrying a wooden cane lay closest to her, appearing to have stumbled into the scene at a later time.

Hermione knelt down, examining the frail man.

"I've never seen a charm of this liking," Hermione muttered, running a finger along the dried forehead. Mr. Finnick knelt down alongside her, seemingly stumped.

"When I first saw them, I believed this was the work of some dementor. But hundreds of wizards falling to a swarm of them? At least one would be able to ward them off with a patronus." Hermione nodded in agreement. She got up, glancing around at the other victims. It seemed like all had fallen at the same time- as if one moment they'd been walking and the next collapsing.

"There is a possibility, and I believe we both know how serious this could end up being if word got out." Hermione turned to face her boss, a pained expression on her face. "It seems to me this is the work of Psyche magic."

"Impossible!" Mr. Finnick exclaimed, eyes wide. "No sane wizard, even death eaters, would dare trifle in that branch of magic! We know the risks associ-"

Cries of confusion rang throughout the air. Hermione turned to find what appeared to be three aurors chasing a figure. With a flash, he or she was gone. Lying in the cobblestone where the figure had once stood lay a lens cover. For a camera.

"How did he get through! The concealment charm should have stopped him!" Mr. Finnick angrily stormed over to the three aurors, a terrified look in their eyes.

"Well, so much for keeping this case under wraps," Hermione sighed.

_October 17, 2010 - Crete, Greece - Harry_

A thunderous crack emitted from the glass cup as Harry poured himself another serving of seltzer water over a mound of sparkling ice cubes. He reached over and grabbed a slice of lime from the wooden cutting board propped next to him on the bench, watching as he dropped it into the swirling bubbles of carbonated bliss.

"Master Potter, I believe that's your third bottle today." Harry chuckled, peering over at a small boy across from him. They both sat on benches facing each other, a warm breeze carrying scents of the foaming sea below. They were in the backyard of Harry's cottage, positioned on a cliff overlooking the Mediterranean. Lush grasses and flowers littered the ground, swaying in the steady wind.

"Guilty. Although it is quite warranted from this morning's ordeals."

"You always come up with an excuse! Come on, we have more research to do. Are you just going to mope around all day?" The boy got up and tugged on Harry's sleeve.

"Mope? A better term would be enjoying the beautiful outdoors, Theo. Just look at this view!" Harry replied, a smile dancing across his lips as he brought the carbonated beverage to his mouth. The harsh sting of the beverage in the back of his throat, along with the bitter flavour of lime, seemed to always find its way into his daily routine.

Theo had worked for Harry as his personal assistant for years, initially running into him at a market near the center of town. While he didn't see much use for him these days besides the constant nagging, Harry had grown fond of the boy.

Harry had traveled to Greece six years ago, following the trail Dumbledore had left him with before his death. He had left immediately after the fall of Voldemort, although the pain of leaving his friends and what he considered family had been difficult. This, however, was a task he was employed to do alone. He couldn't afford to endanger anyone else.

It would be a lie to state that Harry hadn't missed his old life. He missed the light-hearted, comedic antics of Ron, the ever-bossy Hermione, and even Ginny. He missed the Weasley family, his mentors from Hogwarts, and the school life he would always cherish. Harry could still picture himself wandering the stone halls of the castle, echoes of laughter and talking portraits filling the school chambers. He would have to live a life away from those he cared most for to ensure their safety.

_The irony… _Harry thought, slightly amused.

Dumbledore had left him a diary- one owned by the infamous dark wizard Ekrizdis. Ekrizdis had been known for possibly creating the manifestation that was Azkaban, a current prison utilized by the Ministry in the middle of the ocean. He was also known for his experimentation in a branch of magic known as Psyche, his studies eventually leading to his loss of sanity and death. His studies, however, resulted in the creation of the wraith known as a Dementor.

Psyche was and still is a branch of magic studied by only a few daring wizards and witches, its effects on sanity proving far too dangerous even for the most capable. It involves the manipulation of the soul in a being- having the ability to extract and hold the spirit of a living being while also having the ability to transfer said soul into another body. The Imperius Curse, long thought to be one of the most dangerous charms in the modern wizarding world, was structured on this branch of magic. The caster could essentially seize control of the soul inside an individual.

Unlike other branches such as Divination and Charms, Psyche is a forbidden form of magic not taught in any school around the globe.

Harry had studied the branch of magic for years, still unable to understand Dumbledore's intentions. Why had he led him to discover this? Even with limited knowledge, Harry continued his experimentation for Dumbledore's sake. Knowing the deceased headmaster, Harry knew something substantial was at stake.

His studies brought him to the the birthplace of Ekrizdis's ancestors- the island of Crete off the coast of Greece. For years, Harry poured over the dark wizard's notes in hopes of finding the answer to this task Dumbledore assigned him. He could see how the branch of magic had corrupted the mind of the author, preferring to stay away from spells extracting fragments of his own spirit.

Harry's exploration of the island had uncovered even more documents on the matter, where he learned the coveted process of soul extraction. It had been over a year since Harry had first performed it, watching in awe as a teal glow appeared to burst out of the test beetle.

Ever since that day, Harry faced the predicament of finding a home for the extracted soul. He had attempted to insert it into the lifeless beetle's body, but found the task fruitless. It was almost as if the body was rejecting it.

"We have to be missing something!" Theo exclaimed, continuing to roughly tug on Harry's sleeve.

"Obviously, or we wouldn't be in this situation," Harry snorted, flicking Theo's forehead. The boy stumbled backwards, rubbing his minor wound and scowling at Harry.

"You're mean!" He pouted as Harry got up, tousling the boy's hair.

"Come on, we have research to do!" The boy smiled, clinging onto Harry's hand as they made their way through the thick field towards the cottage. Although Theo was a muggle, he had been surprisingly calm about Harry's studies. Perhaps it was his introduction to the wizarding world at such a young age that brought less shock to the ordeal.

In a gust of wind, an owl dove in front of Harry and perched itself on his shoulder- newspaper pinned between its beak.

"Ori!" Theo laughed, stroking the owl's feathers as Ori cooed in pleasure. Harry took the newspaper from him, giving the creature a pet. While his connection was limited, Harry still paid the monthly subscription for the Daily Prophet to keep an eye on things back home. He peered at the headline before stopping abruptly.

"No," Harry murmured, an image of dried corpses dancing across the page. "Dementors- or Something More?" read the headline.

"What is it Master Potter? Did something happen back home?" Theo inquired, looking over. Harry quickly raised the paper above the boy's head, preventing the sight of the grotesque images swimming across the page.

"Nothing, Theo. Just some internal strife within the government again." Harry lied, turning towards the cottage door. The mention of politics seemed to bore Theo, who burst in and looked towards the kitchen.

"I say we have pasta again!" He exclaimed, dashing towards the cupboard and whipping out a box of uncooked penne. Harry rolled his eyes, his thoughts preoccupied by the headline.

"You know, for a Greek kid, you really like eating everything not part of your culture." Theo stuck his tongue out, crawling onto the counter and reaching for the pot. As difficult as it was to admit, Harry knew the kid had far more skill in the kitchen then he'd ever have. "I thought we were going back to work anyway?"

"Dinner first, then work!" He responded firmly, filling the pot with water from the sink and setting it on the stovetop. In half an hour, Harry found himself picking at a savory dish of roasted vegetables, delicious starch rolls, and a light tomato sauce.

"Theo, I'm going to have to travel back for a bit," Harry said slowly, looking up at the boy. The boy nodded, though looking slightly crestfallen. Perhaps he understood more than he let on.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow. It's rather urgent," Harry replied, picking the newspaper up from the table. Over two hundred deaths? Who was this wizard?

"Alright, don't be gone too long. Send Ori if something keeps you." Theo said, stuffing his face. Harry glanced up and laughed, grabbing a napkin and sliding it across the table. The boy was accustomed to Harry's constant journeys away from the cottage.

"You got a little something on your face." Theo grinned, wiping the red sauce from his cheeks with his fingers and plunging them into his mouth.

"Deeee-licioussss!" Theo exclaimed, giggling at Harry's disgusted expression. They both laughed, the warm crackle of the fire in the corner echoing throughout the cottage. A soft coo could be heard from the propped window where Ori perched, gazing at the two.

After a bit of document reading, Theo bid farewell. His parents were expecting him.

"Could it be?" Harry muttered to himself, heading down the creaking steps towards the basement. "_Lumos!_" The dim light revealed books sprawled everywhere across a desk, along with a locked box.

He flicked the latch, swinging the top open to reveal a dried beetle.

_October 18, 2010 - Auror Office, Ministry of Magic - Harry_

Harry felt butterflies flutter in his stomach as he emerged into the atrium of the Ministry for the first time in over ten years. The apparation, while rather long in distance, had gone off without a hitch much to his surprise.

The room bustled with wizards and witches, paper planes flying everywhere above his head as he made his way through the crowd. Having dropped glasses in favor of contacts years prior, his appearance must not have been recognizable. That, or they simply forgot about him. Harry didn't care.

He made his way into an empty elevator, finding the level for the auror office before stepping out into a dark marble walkway. Portraits lining the walls seemed to stare at him as he walked past, as if they knew him but couldn't place the name.

A commanding voice veered him back into reality as he caught sight of a bulky man in a dress shirt and trousers, barking at what seemed to be a new addition to the office. The poor auror nodded violently, scrambling away with a stack of papers in tow.

"Mr. Finnick, I presume?" Harry asked, walking up to him. He had heard of the head auror in the paper. The man turned and faced him, a stern but inquisitive look on his face.

"That would be me. Who are you? What do you want?"

"It's quite complicated. Do you mind if we speak in your office?" Harry replied coolly, glancing around. The office was packed, aurors scrambling for leads on what seemed to be a serious case. Before he could respond, a voice Harry hadn't forgotten sounded behind the head auror.

"Mr. Finnick, we have another incident. This time in Godric's Hollow." Mr. Finnick turned to reveal a petite, brown-haired woman carrying what looked to be several folders. Her straight hair cascaded down her back and shoulders, framing a soft yet confident face. Her brown eyes caught sight of Harry, dropping the folders. Her mouth opened.

"Hermione." Harry greeted her softly, smiling slightly. "It's been a while."

**Author's Note:** Hi all! This was an idea I got some time ago but never got around to writing it until now. Hopefully you enjoyed it! Some information about the story:

New chapters every week on Sunday, 10am CT

Gradual relationship between Hermione and Harry, nothing abrupt, subplot

The story will follow as close to canon as possible after the fall of Voldemort, ignoring 19 years later

No bashing of any character will be present

Slightly overpowered Harry, much more mature Harry

Perspectives will change based on what I feel is needed, but mainly Harry and Hermione

Story has no beta, expect a few typos!

**Please Review! I love criticism!**

See you all next week!

CraftingP0tter


	2. Not So Pleasant Reunion

**Spirit Walker**

Chapter 2 - _Not So Pleasant Reunion_

_October 18, 2010 - Auror Office, Ministry of Magic - Harry_

* * *

Mr. Finnick raised his eyebrows, looking between the two. Hermione still hadn't spoken in over half a minute, expressions morphing from shock to disbelief to what finally resembled sheer anger.

"I take it you two know one another?" The head auror asked, looking at his employee. Hermione nodded slowly, jaw set and eyes blazing.

"Yes, in fact we do. Mr. Finnick, do you mind if we have a minute?" Her voice seemed restrained, ready to break out into a chaotic whirlwind. He nodded, an amused look on his face as he sent a "good luck" glance at Harry before strolling away towards a cubicle in the bustling office.

Harry smiled weakly at her, but she grabbed him by the arm in a violent motion before yanking him into what appeared to be an empty conference room.

"Ouch, Hermione! You don't need to be so aggressive!" Harry complained, rubbing his arm as she let him go to close the door. She whirled around, grabbing both his wrists and pinning him against the table much to his discomfort.

"Harry. James. Potter. Where. Have. You. Been." Each word grew in volume, her face getting closer to his with each syllable ringing throughout the room.

"Hermione-" He stopped as a salty drop of water bounced off his cheek, clinging onto his skin before sliding down and reaching the table below. He looked up to see his best friend crying, a hurt expression on her face as she stared painfully into his eyes. Her brown orbs danced with moisture- countless emotions swirling in those dark chocolate voids that seemed to pull him nearer.

Her dark brown hair cascaded downwards, brushing Harry's face as it swayed. The intoxicating aroma of vanilla beans was captured in every breath he took. Their faces were inches apart, both unable to tear their eyes from each other as if they didn't believe what stared back at them.

"Hermione...I'm sorry. Truly. I'll explain everything, I swear! But some personal space would be nice." Hermione's face flushed a bit as she hastily removed herself from him. She crossed her arms, recomposing herself before glaring at Harry with bloodshot eyes.

"Potter. Explain." He took a deep breath, gingerly rubbing his wrists.

"Hermione… I didn't want to leave. Trust me, I've missed you so much over the years we've spent apart. I left to protect you. And Ron. And everyone I've grown to care for-" Hermione appeared ready to interrupt but Harry hurriedly continued. "Dumbledore tasked me with something. He said the consequences of failure in this quest would rival those of even Voldemort's rise to power. I didn't want to drag you or anyone else along. You guys have done so much already. It isn't fair that you all haven't lived a normal life-"

"What if I don't want to live a normal life, Harry? What if I enjoyed what we did? What if I became an auror because I missed the thrills we shared in our adventures during our time at Hogwarts?"

"What if I wanted to protect you?" Harry replied softly, looking down at his feet and running a hand through his messy hair.

"And what if I wanted to protect you?" She snapped back. He looked up to find Hermione's glare gone, replaced with tears streaming down her eyes. He walked over, wrapping his arms around her shaking body as she cried into his chest.

"I missed you," Harry whispered into her ear, brushing strands of hair back. The scent of vanilla and freshly printed paper wafted throughout the room as he felt his cotton shirt clinging to his chest, soaked from tears.

He found himself sitting on what appeared to be a bench overlooking a lake. The morning mist clung onto his eyelashes, dripping onto flushed cheeks. He turned to find Hermione, her damp hair pressed against his shoulder. She appeared to be sleeping, a peaceful expression on her face- it was as if the world could collapse and she'd be content vanishing at that very moment beside him.

Hogwarts. The day before he left. He remembered. The vision disappeared, replaced by the darkened room once again- Hermione deep in embrace.

They stayed that way for what felt like eternity.

Just the two. Alone.

Hermione's sobs echoing throughout the dark room. Harry brushing her hair back, holding her tightly. She felt so weak, as if he needed to be there for her to stand.

"Promise me you won't leave again." Hermione mumbled into his chest, looking up. He was caught again in those swirling vortexes, dancing with pain yet hope.

"I promise." Hermione smiled slightly before pulling away, rubbing her eyes before standing up straight and smoothing out her attire.

"Well, I'm just glad you're safe. Shall we go see Mr. Finnick then? I believe you were here to see him?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not forgiving you for abandoning us." Harry paused at the door.

"I don't expect you to," He replied softly before heading out.

_Us_.

* * *

"Vance Roberts. He's the owner of the old bookstore in the alley. We found him along with hundreds of others near Gringott's." Mr. Finnick wheeled out the body of the old man, his dried skin resting on worn bones. "Take a look for as long as you need, Mr. Potter."

The head auror's entire demeanor had changed when Harry's identity had been revealed- one of respect yet disbelief. The savior of the British Wizarding World asking for his help? It seemed as though Mr. Finnick didn't know how to act around him.

Harry brushed his finger along the corpse's lips before placing his hand on its chest, muttering a quiet incantation.

"_Anima inveniet._" A white glow spread around his fingers, encasing the corpse in a dazzling display of luminance. Mr. Finnick seemed rather impressed, his eyebrows raised. After a few seconds, the light disappeared.

"Just as I suspected," Harry murmured, turning to the head auror. "Sir, it seems as if we have a Psyche user on the loose. That enchantment should have revealed the corpse's core, or his soul to put it more simply. None appeared."

"It could be a dementor," Mr. Finnick pointed out.

"No, unfortunately that has also been ruled out. When a dementor steals the soul of an individual, it is done through the mouth. Take a look at the mouth: it's closed." Mr. Finnick's face paled as he looked. He knew Harry was right.

"Ho...How can someone be practicing the form of magic? Any documents were burned- the branch of magic died with Ekrizdis! We know this!"

"Sir, you just witnessed me performing the form of magic. I assure you, documents still exist." The head auror looked stricken.

"While I assure you I don't pose a threat, the wizard that performed said enchantments does and is a grave danger to the whole of Britain. Judging from what I've been hearing his attacks are ramping up, aren't they?"

"Yes," Mr. Finnick sighed, looking tired. "The dark wizard has been increasingly active as of late. There's been more than three attacks in the past day. Over three hundred fatalities in total- muggles and wizards included in that number. It's been a field day keeping the news away from the papers." Harry nodded, looking thoughtfully at the body before him.

"They're going to find out eventually. Might want to leak it before you guys start looking like the bad guys."

"Are you mad? You're asking for chaos on the streets!"

"Get me copies of every piece of information you have on these attacks. I need the locations, fatalities, images- everything you have. I'll come by later to retrieve the documents. Thank you, Mr. Finnick." Harry briskly walked out of the sterile room, catching a glimpse of his shocked face. The head auror wasn't used to receiving orders.

He found himself walking down the office corridor. The world around him seemed to slow with each step- papers flying as an assistant stumbled past him. The dark marble floor echoed under each contact with his leather oxfords. Voices muffled into silence.

Could this be what Dumbledore had warned about in the diary? Who was this man? What was the next move?

"Harry! Did you finish?" Hermione's voice derailed him from his train of thought, violently tossing himself into reality once again.

"For now. I'm off to get some fresh air and visit a certain somebody. I'll be back, alright? Or is my absence too unbearable for the lonely Ms. Granger?"

"I'm not lonely!" She flushed, an irritated expression on her face. Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "You're insufferable. Prance around wherever you like, see if I care!"

"Mhm," Harry replied, poking her nose. "Later, bookworm."

"Oh, shut up."

_October 18, 2010 - Weasley's Wizard Wheezes - Ron_

* * *

Fine, blackened powder poured down between his fingers and piled in a mound on the display. Ron sighed, rubbing the instant darkness powder between his fingers as he gazed out the window. The shop had been practically empty for two days and counting as a result of the attack a few blocks down.

"Why are we even open? It's not like anyone is going to stumble into a joke shop for the next week so close to the incident," Ron grumbled, throwing whatever powder was left at the glass encasement. A miniature cloud appeared, obscuring all vision inside.

George had left Ron to manage the store for the week much to his dismay, off on his honeymoon with the new wife. While he felt elated for his brother, he knew the store would ultimately rest on his shoulders from then on.

The normally lively, animated shop felt particularly still today. Magical paper planes scattered the floor as opposed to flying throughout the room, while interactive portions of the shop sat unmoving due to the lack of customers. Ron's Halloween exhibit near the front- one in which he was particularly proud of for arranging- sat facing the silent doors.

Ron must have dozed off on the chair behind the register as he awoke to a hand shaking his shoulder gently.

"Ron, mate, you can't be sleeping on the job." Ron groggily opened his eyes to find piercing green ones staring back.

I must be daydreaming… Ron slapped himself on the face, the contact echoing throughout the room. Harry's eyes widened before he began to laugh, observing Ron's pained expression.

"HARRY! How… where have you been, mate!" Ron lept from the chair and gave his best friend a crushing hug, still in disbelief. Harry patted his back, chuckling.

"Good to see you too, Ron. Sorry about the whole disappearing thing. I… was tasked with a mission from Dumbledore. I figured I'd let you have a normal life for once, you know?" He gazed around the joke shop, resting his eyes on the instant darkness powder before smiling. Ron pulled away before punching Harry hard in the face, sending him sprawling across the marble floor. Ron winced.

Maybe a bit too hard. Should get it through his thick skill.

"Potter, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm sticking by your side, mate, even if it gets me killed. You can't just leave me to worry!" Ron massaged his fist as he walked over, offering his hand to help him up.

"Was that necessary?" Harry grimaced, gingerly feeling his new cheek wound before taking Ron's hand. Ron laughed, shaking his head and embracing Harry once again.

"Just glad you're back, man."

"Ditto." Harry chuckled. "So, how are things going? You and Hermione married yet?" Ron stepped back, his face flushing a deep red.

"Wha... what makes you say that? We're just friends, that's all," Ron stammered, obviously uncomfortable. Harry raised his eyebrows, as if disappointed.

"Oh come on, Ron. In over ten years you haven't made your move yet? She's probably waiting, you know," Harry sounded exasperated, rolling his eyes and looking at Ron as if waiting for an explanation.

Ron sighed. The year after Voldemort's defeat, he and Hermione had attempted to date. It was particularly distant, with Hermione's studies at Hogwarts and Ron's busy schedule at the joke shop. The two managed to see each other on Friday's, however, but the relationship eventually drifted into a mutual friendship. He didn't mind it. Truth be told, he had another person on his mind in the romantic department.

"We decided to just stay friends," Ron responded. "We were too distant, you know? It didn't feel right. I guess I'm trying to say having Hermione as a friend means more to me than any non-platonic relationship." He looked down, embarrassed. He knew what was coming next.

"Still single, then?" Harry asked, amused. "No women catching your fancy these days?"

"Nope, not one!" Ron replied hurriedly. That didn't sound suspicious at all. If Harry noticed anything, he didn't push. He clapped his hand on Ron's shoulder, smiling.

"Well look at you. Ronald Weasley, securing the bag and living the bachelor life willingly. Wouldn't have thought I'd see the day!" Ron scowled, brushing his hand off.

"How about you, mate?" Ron made sure to grit his teeth on the last word.

"No luck. Alas, my strikingly handsome features and winning personality seem to be far too much for women to handle," Harry mockingly replied, brushing his hair to the side dramatically.

Harry really has changed. He's much more confident- easy going.

"In your dreams, scar-face." The two laughed, enjoying each other's company for the first time in over a decade.

"I came over to ask if you wanted to join in on a dinner reunion type-thing? I'm inviting Hermione too, so it'll be the old gang back together again."

"Sounds great, I have no plans. You got a place for us?" Ron swore he heard a quiet "as usual" after his first sentence.

"No, why don't you surprise me." Harry handed him his phone opened on the contact page. "Text me when and where it's going to be at. I have some work to do beforehand."

The two bid farewell, a single ray of sunshine squeezing its way through the ominous clouds as Harry walked out the door. Ron sat back on his chair, gazing out at the disappearing figure.

"He's really back." For the rest of the day, the joke shop didn't feel as empty as it once had.

_October 18, 2010 - Bermondsey District, London - Hermione_

* * *

Hermione gazed across the River Thames- its white caps swelling in the biting wind. A lone vessel sliced through the ferocious waves, the sail billowing triumphantly in its parade down the river. Birds sung in the swaying trees above, their sound muffled by the roar of leaves rustling in the breeze.

She shivered, leaning against the rough trunk. Where was he? Harry had texted her to meet him at this particular spot for reasons she still had yet to discover.

Hermione was filled with questions, so many that it bothered her enormously. Where had Harry gone off to? Why did he seem- different?

_Why doesn't he remind me of the Harry I once knew?_

His appearance had shocked her, that much was for sure. She still wasn't sure how to take the sudden return of her best friend. Should she remain angry? Forgive him for being the dunce he was?

"There you are." Hermione span around to find Harry smiling at her, holding a steaming cup from a local coffee shop. He held it out for her. "Apologies for the delay. The tea took a bit longer to pick up than I would have liked." A warm feeling spread across Hermione's body as she grinned slightly, taking the cup graciously.

"Thanks, it's not a problem. What are we doing here? Finnick's going to kill me if this isn't work related like you said," Hermione replied, sipping on the scorching beverage. The wind howled across their faces, her hair flying backwards in a graceful dance.

"Know what this is?" Harry pulled out a lens cover. Hermione nodded.

"It's the cover that was found from the cameraman that managed to get by the concealment charms in Diagon Alley. Couldn't be arrested as he didn't actually commit a crime." Hermione looked quizzically at him. "Say, how did you get your hands on that? That was in the auror office last I checked."

"Might have plucked it on my way out," Harry replied sheepishly. "Not important. What is important is that the cameraman was able to get into the crime scene. That means he either slipped in past the defenses set up by the aurors, or…"

"He was already there," Hermione finished.

"Precisely. Either he was lucky to be in the right place at the right time before the aurors reached the bodies, or he had prior information on when the killing would take place. The massacre at Diagon Alley is the only attack with photo evidence provided to the Daily Prophet." Harry flipped the lens cover over with his fingers.

"You're suspecting this photographer has something to do with whatever is going on?" Hermione asked, beginning to follow Harry's suspicions. He nodded, reaching into his pocket and unfolding a tiny, white parchment.

"I did some poking around at the Prophet. They wouldn't tell me who sold the photos to them for that story for privacy laws or whatever, but the dimwitted bloke did have the information of the only contract photographer who carries the camera associated with this cover. Apparently it's quite expensive." Harry revealed an address to her- a house a few blocks down.

"You found him, didn't you? That's where we're going now."

"You're right on target, as always, my brilliant Hermione," Harry exclaimed as if she'd struck gold, his eyes shining. She blushed, looking towards the glistening water as the sun began to set. Shrieks filled the air as a young boy and girl chased each other on the rocky shore, eventually falling on one another in a fit of laughter.

They made their way across the street, indulging on their drinks and enjoying the pleasant silence both had grown accustomed to before Harry's disappearance. Something felt odd to Hermione, however.

_There's a distance we didn't use to have. I don't know what he's thinking. I don't know him anymore._

"We're here!" Harry knocked on the door, cup still in hand.

_He looks so laid back. So calm. Collected. He can handle anything._

He frowned when no response came before whipping his wand out and tapping the lock. A click sounded through the crisp air as the door swung open slowly, revealing an empty hallway.

"Harry! We can't just barge into someone's house without permission!" Hermione hissed, grabbing his coat as he made a move to enter. He turned around, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I promise we'll be fine. Trust me." She looked at him worriedly before stepping in with him, closing the door behind her. A warmth spread across her face as the scent of burning wood and vanilla candles drifted around her nose.

"Anyone home?" Harry called out as they made their way through the creaking hallway, finding themselves in what appeared to be a living room. A roaring fire crackled in the corner, providing a powerful heat. A man, possibly in his later fifties, seemed lost in thought as he gazed at a board nailed to a wall on the opposite side of the room.

He turned, his eyes shooting up in surprise as if he'd just realized he had company.

"What are you doing in my house? Get out!" He looked angry, approaching Harry and whipping his wand out. Harry smiled at the man, raising his hand. The man's wand, much to Hermione's shock, drifted away and found itself in Harry's outstretched palm.

"Apologies for the intrusion, Mr. Franklin. We'll be out of your hair in a jiffy, but we do have some questions for you." Harry rolled the wand in between his fingers, gazing at the astonished wizard in front of him. He eventually breathed out, walking over to a table lined with bottles of alcohol.

"You drink?" He asked, pouring what looked to be a tiny shot of vodka into a glass. Harry shook his head.

"I don't, but thanks for offering." Harry took out the lens cover in his pocket. "You knew where the people were to be killed before it happened, didn't you?"

"You have no proof I did. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you." Mr. Franklin downed the drink, gazing warily at the intruding man. Harry chuckled much to the man's dismay.

"Mr. Franklin, does it look like I'm a fool? We walked in on you staring at what appeared to be a list on that board of yours." Harry stepped closer to him, causing the man to back up slowly. "The board you're currently hiding right now." He gently brushed Mr. Franklin to the side, studying the pinned parchment.

"Do you know how much I'm making off that one photograph I sent to the Prophet?" The man lost his composure, a look of terror splashed across his face. "I need it. All of it. My wife- she's been taken by death eaters. I can't get her back unless I pay…" Harry took the parchment off the board, turning to face him.

"Mr. Franklin, I understand your desperation. I will help your situation if you tell me how exactly you came into contact with this information?" Harry held the paper up for Hermione to see.

_King's Cross Station - 10/19 - 4:30_. Tomorrow. Hermione stormed over to Mr. Franklin, her wand pointed at his throat.

"Explain." Her voice was low- menacing. How could this man watch hundreds of wizards and muggles die for the sake of making money?

"It was slid underneath my door! I have no idea who distributed it, I swear!" He replied quickly, Hermione's wand pushed roughly against his bobbing throat.

"Hermione, that's enough." Harry placed his hand gently on her shaking arm, pulling it down slowly and giving her hand a squeeze. Hermione breathed, attempting to calm herself. He faced Mr. Franklin, a pained expression on his face.

"Please help, sir. I can't… I can't see my wife. It pains me," He choked, lunging at Harry and wrapping himself around his hand.

"The money- how much?"

"500 galleons! I've been saving for months, living off of scraps. I can't stand to picture her off in a cold, dark-"

"The money will be paid in full tomorrow morning. Look for its delivery." Harry shook the man off, straightening his coat before tossing the man his wand. A troubled look seemed to dance in his eyes as he passed Hermione towards the hallway.

She watched, stunned. With a final glance at the sobbing man on the floor, she followed the troubled man out the door.

"Harry… Why did you do that? He didn't deserve it." Harry continued walking down the sidewalk, gazing up at the shocking red leaves dancing in the golden sunlight. A single leaf tore itself from a branch overhead, dancing in the brisk breeze before landing on Harry's outstretched hand.

"Does one desperate act define who the man is- what the man deserves?" He replied softly, crushing the dried leaf in his hand before opening his palm.

Dozens of shattered leaf fragments caught in the air, fluttering away before disappearing into the golden rays of light above. Harry turned to look at Hermione, smiling and holding out his hand. Bright crimson branches swayed behind him as the fading daylight shone across his back, darkening his face. His brilliant emerald eyes gleamed, that look of trouble drifting away alongside the crushed leaf in the wind.

"Will the lovely Ms. Granger accompany me to a fabulous, celebratory feast on the acquisition of this information?" He asked playfully, his voice firm in the howling street.

Hermione cracked a smile, walking over and grabbing his hand.

"I'd love to."

_He feels so warm. Why do I feel this way? As if I'm floating on clouds- invincible as long as I'm by his side._

They walked, hand in hand, towards the radiant light bathing their faces. The River Thames appeared on the horizon, its ferocious nature remaining unchanged. Two vessels could be seen battling the choppy waves, their sails billowing in unison as they paraded down the mighty river.

Their destination: Wherever the river guided them.

**Author's Note:**

Hi all! Hopefully you all had a pleasant week and successful Valentine's Day. A bit early this week but I decided to get this out since the chapter was already finished.

Shoot me a review and let me know if you're enjoying the story so far. The fun's just beginning! Apologies for the slow chapter one and two. Introductions are needed.

Until next time,

craftingP0tter


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